The Son Seduction Trap
Copyright© 2025 by Chris X
Chapter 18
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 18 - Attend curiosity leads to adult websites which causes a moral dilemma for himself an online friend turns into more sexual boundaries are pushed the under limits. A journey into knowing oneself.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt Drunk/Drugged Rape BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Incest Mother Son Father DomSub Humiliation Rough Interracial White Male White Female Hispanic Male Indian Male Anal Sex Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism Hairy Revenge Violence AI Generated
The silence in the room is absolute, broken only by the ragged sound of my own breathing. Karen’s eyes are wide, glued to Edward’s fingers, which are now resting casually on his thigh, still glistening faintly. The scent of my release hangs in the air between us, a stark, carnal confession.
Edward doesn’t move. He just regards her with that cool, calculating smile, as if he’s just presented a fascinating medical finding. “I said,” he repeats, his voice low and utterly composed, “we were just talking about you.”
“Talking? The silence in the room is absolute, broken only by the ragged sound of my own breathing. Karen’s eyes are wide, glued to Edward’s fingers, which are now resting casually on his thigh, still glistening faintly. The scent of my release hangs in the air between us, a stark, carnal confession.
Edward doesn’t move. He just regards her with that cool, calculating smile, as if he’s just presented a fascinating medical finding. “I said,” he repeats, his voice low and utterly composed, “we were just talking about you.”
“Talking? “Karen’s voice is a shaky whisper. Her gaze finally tears away from him and lands on me, still exposed and trembling in the chair. Her eyes travel the length of my body, from my flushed face down to my softening cock, then to the evidence of my pleasure streaked across my stomach. A strange, conflicted expression crosses her face—horror, yes, but beneath it, a flicker of something dark and intrigued. Her lips part slightly.
Edward follows her gaze. He reaches out, not to me, but to the mess on my stomach. He dips two fingers into it, collecting a pool of my cum. He holds it up, examining it in the dim light of my desk lamp.
“Our son,” Edward says, the words dropping into the silent room like stones, “has been keeping secrets. Quite ... productive ones.” He brings his fingers to his lips again, his eyes locked on Karen’s, and slowly licks them clean. A deliberate, shocking act of possession.
Karen makes a small, choked sound. Her hand flies to her mouth, but she doesn’t look away. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly beneath her tight shirt, her enhanced breasts straining against the fabric.
“He’s been exploring his appetites with a certain ... Officer Ramirez,” Edward continues conversationally, as if discussing a business associate. “And with you, my dear. And it seems, in my neglect, I failed to appreciate the man he’s become.” His eyes soften as they turn to me, a look of genuine, proud awe that makes my heart stutter. “Look at him, Karen. Really look.”
He stands then, his movements fluid and powerful. He doesn’t bother to hide his own impressive arousal, the thick outline clear against his tight workout shorts. He walks over to me and places his hands on my shoulders, his touch firm and grounding.
“I’ve been a fool,” he murmurs, his voice for me alone. “Focusing on everything but the most important thing. My family.” He leans down, his lips brushing my ear, and whispers, “My beautiful, perfect son.”
A shiver racks my entire body. His words are a balm and a brand, healing a wound I didn’t even know was bleeding while simultaneously claiming me in a way that feels more profound than anything Carlos ever devised.
He straightens up and turns back to Karen, his expression shifting back to chilling resolve. “You, however, have been a neglectful wife and a distracted mother. You sought excitement elsewhere when it was here, in this home, all along.” He gestures to me, to himself, to the space between us crackling with newfound energy. “You didn’t nurture this. You exploited it for your own thrills. You used our son.”
“Edward, I—” she starts, but he cuts her off with a slash of his hand.
“No.” The word is final. Absolute. “Pack your things. I want you out by morning.”
Her face crumples, true shock finally breaking through her aroused confusion. “You’re ... you’re throwing me out?”
“I’m setting us free,” he corrects her, his voice cold. “You’re from a marriage you clearly hold in contempt, and I’m from a wife who couldn’t see the treasure right in front of her.” He takes a step toward her, and she instinctively shrinks back. “The divorce papers will be drawn up. You’ll get what the law dictates, nothing more. Now. Get. Out.”
She stares at him, her eyes brimming with tears of hurt and fury, then at me with a look of bewildered betrayal. For a moment, I think she’ll argue, but the sheer force of Edward’s will is a physical pressure in the room. With a strangled sob, she turns and flees, the door slamming shut behind her.
The sound seems to break a spell. The tension drains from Edward’s shoulders. He turns to me, and the coldness in his eyes melts away, replaced by a warmth that feels like the sun.
“Now,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “Where were we?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He reaches down and, with a strength that leaves me breathless, lifts me effortlessly from the chair. My sweatpants and boxers are still tangled around my knees, and I stumble against him, my nakedness pressed against the firm muscle of his body. He smells of sweat, expensive cologne, and him—a scent that is suddenly, intensely familiar and safe.
He carries me the few steps to my bed and lays me down gently on the comforter. He stands over me for a moment, just looking, his dark eyes drinking me in with a reverence that makes me feel worshipped.
“All this time,” he whispers, almost to himself. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of his own shorts and boxer briefs and pushes them down in one smooth motion.
I gasp. He is ... magnificent. Thick and heavy and fully erect, his arousal a testament to what had just transpired. The dark thatch of hair at his base, the powerful cut of his hips—it’s a vision of mature, raw masculinity that steals the air from my lungs.
He kneels on the bed, looming over me, then lowers his body down beside mine. The heat of his skin is a brand. He shifts, turning onto his side to face me, and pulls me into his arms. My back is against his chest, his front pressed against my backside. His thick arousal nestles firmly between my thighs, a hot, insistent pressure against the sensitive skin behind my balls.
One strong arm wraps around my chest, holding me tightly against him. The other hand slides down, over my stomach, through the sticky evidence of my first release, and down to my cock. It’s already stirring again under his touch, responding to the overwhelming sense of safety and taboo belonging.
“Shhh,” he murmurs into my hair, his breath warm against my ear. His hand begins to move, stroking me with a slow, possessive rhythm that is both comforting and incredibly arousing. “It’s just us now. No more secrets. No more hiding.”
He nuzzles the nape of my neck, his lips brushing my skin, and I melt back against him. This is different from the frantic, dangerous excitement with Carlos or the illicit thrill with Karen. This is deep, primal, and felt ... right. It was a homecoming I never knew I needed.
His hand works me expertly, his touch firm and knowing. His other hand slides up from my chest to cradle my jaw, tilting my head back so his lips can find mine in a slow, deep, exploratory kiss. It’s my first kiss with a man. With my father. It’s not aggressive or demanding; it’s claiming, loving, and devouring in its intensity.
I moan into his mouth, my hips pushing back against his hardness and forward into his fist. The dual sensations are overwhelming. I can feel every inch of him against me, surrounding me.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice a husky growl against my lips. “Feel me, Adam. Know who you belong to now.”
His kisses move from my mouth to my jaw, down my throat, his teeth grazing my skin gently. His stroking hand speeds up, his grip tightening just enough to make me whimper. The pleasure builds again, hotter and deeper this time, a coiling tension in the very core of my being.
“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes into my ear, his own hips rocking against me, his cock sliding slickly between my thighs. “I want to feel you lose control in my arms. Let go for me, son. Come for me.”
His command, wrapped in a cocoon of his strength and scent, shatters me. I cry out, my body bowing as the orgasm rips through me, more powerful than the first, a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated release. My hand pulses over his hand and onto my stomach again, a fresh claim.
He holds me through it, his own body tensing against mine, a low, guttural groan rumbling in his chest as he finds his own pleasure against my body, his release hot and wet between my thighs.
For a long time, we just lie there, tangled together, breathing as one. His grip on me doesn’t loosen. He shifts just enough to pull the comforter over us, enveloping us in warmth and darkness. His arm remains a heavy, protective band across my chest, his body a solid wall of heat at my back.
He kisses my shoulder softly. “Sleep,” he whispers, his voice thick with spent passion and something that sounds like love. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
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